Perfect
by RazleBerry
Summary: 19 year-old Muffy Crosswire is the only one of her friends still living in Elwood City and, looking back on her mistakes, wonders if it's too late to turn her life around. future!fic, AU, Companion to my other story; "He Left"


**A/N : Trigger Warning: Eating disorders, please don't read if this will trigger you!**

"Miss Muffy, you really should be getting up by now"

I wake groggily from my restless sleep to the click of the light switch and bright lights suddenly shining directly into my eyes. I pull my covers hastily over my head to block out the light and mumble something incoherent. When I notice the culprit of my rude awakening standing in the doorway, I yell at him to go away. I know that it probably isn't fair of me, Bailey's only worried about me. After all, I _was_ supposed to be awake hours ago.

I glance over at the clock beside my bed that reads 2:48 PM and sigh. I had long since missed my audition.

"Not like it even matters..." I mutter quietly to myself

It's been more than a year since I've gotten a job or even a callback and I feel like my life is caught in a downward spiral. Nothing is going the way I want it to, and I'm miles away from the perfection I desperately desire.

When I was little, my daddy used to tell me that I could be whatever I wanted to be, and for a long time I believed it. I was rich, after all, and I couldn't imagine there being anything money couldn't buy.

I thought I could do anything.

I was absolutely convinced that out of all of my friends, _I_ was the only one that was going somewhere. _I_ was going to have an amazing life, incomparable to those of my old friends. But now I look back and wonder what went wrong. How is it that I'm the only one still stuck in Elwood City?

Why am I the biggest failure of them all?

Of course, my parents have enough money that I could live here with them without needing to work, but I wanted to make something of myself. I wanted to finally do something on my own. I had bragged all the way through school about how I was going to be an actress or a model and now look at me; my dreams have crumbled into dust.

I'll never understand why fairy tales insist on lying to unsuspecting children. I learned the hard way that dreams really _don't_ come true. I've been going to auditions since junior year and it's been _hard_. Way harder than anything I'd ever done in my life which, admittedly, isn't saying much.

I reluctantly throw the covers off of me and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Sliding on my slippers, I walk into my closet and stand in front of the mirror, keeping my eyes squeezed shut. With a sigh, I slowly open my eyes and take in my slumped, sleep-deprived figure. It's almost comical how little sleep I get considering the vast amount of time I spend in bed.

I used to be confident to the point of being full of myself, but here I am now, unable to even glance in the mirror without cringing.

_What happened to me..?_

My eyes are sunken and the dark bags are so big that they look like they might be bruises. My hair is dull and disheveled, I can't even remember the last time I brushed it, and, for the first time in my life, I look in the mirror and see that my body looks so… _thin_. I don't mean the beautiful thinness that I have been striving for since junior year, I mean _unhealthily _thin. I look like the broken shell of a person and in this moment I understand completely why I don't get any jobs anymore;

I look awful.

_I used to be so happy._

I remember when I first started auditioning for acting jobs and modeling opportunities, I couldn't understand why I was never chosen. I thought I was perfect. But after countless rejections, I walked up to this same mirror and looked, _really_ looked, at myself for the first time. I realized that I didn't like the girl who was staring back at me. I didn't want to be stuck in her ugly body, but I had no choice, so I picked out every flaw.

My nose was too big, my ears were too small, my eyes were too round, etc. But then I noticed how _fat_ I was. Everywhere I looked, it's all I saw: my arms (fat), my legs (fat), my stomach (_fat_). I started eating more healthily and exercising daily. Pretty soon, I had lost ten pounds and I felt great! I finally started getting parts in commercials and small town plays.

_This is it_, I thought.

But those first ten pounds weren't enough. I wanted to lose _more_. I figured that if ten pounds could do all that, losing more wouldn't hurt. I started eating less and less, until I stopped eating altogether. I needed to be weightless, I needed to be _perfect_. I couldn't write poetry or do math, but _this_ was something I could do.

I shake the memory away as an idea comes to me, and I start searching frantically through my clothes rack.

_Will it still be here?_

_I didn't throw it away did I?_

_No, it's gotta be here._

"Aha!", I declare triumphantly to myself, looking down at the ruffled purple dress in my hands. After I outgrew my favorite dress from elementary school, I bought the closest colour fabric that I could find and made myself a new one. I remember spending forever looking for the perfect amethyst fabric. The design was a little more mature, but it was more or less the same dress.

I hesitantly slip the straps off of the hanger and let the dress drop unceremoniously to the floor. Pulling my nightgown over my head, I step into my old dress and pull my arms through the sleeves. I turn to the mirror, and when I see that the once form-fitting dress looks almost boxy over my tiny figure, a flood of disappointment rushes in to replace my short-lived hope.

The clothes hanger clatters as it slips out of my hand and hits the hardwood, and I slump to my knees. Even with my old clothes on I don't look like the old me.

_The old me is gone._

She disappeared when I became obsessed with the number on the scale, forcing it to go lower and lower. I was always so tired and_ hungry_, but to me it was worth it. Perfection was worth anything.

_Was it worth this?_ I ask myself, eyes brimming with tears.

Was it worth the damage I've caused to my self-esteem? Losing my friends? Destroying my reputation? Ruining my life?

_Was it worth losing myself in the process?_

Probably not.

I hate myself for letting my life get this way.

Wiping the tears off of my face and breathing out slowly, I take the dress off and start to return to my bed. I feel like the small amount of energy I had a minute ago has been sucked dry by my mirror and my horrid reflection. I just want to go back to sleep…

But before I can leave the closet, I notice that there was now a soccer ball on the floor in front of me. It must've come dislodged from the shelf somehow, maybe when I fell to the floor. When I pick it up, memories flow through me, and I'm reminded that Francine got me this ball for my eleventh birthday. Sure I had other soccer balls, but this one was special; it was from Francine.

I miss her.

I miss everyone; Arthur, Sue Ellen, Brain, even Buster.

When I stopped eating, they were all worried about me, but I thought I didn't need their help. In my mind, they were only jealous of how thin I was becoming. I pushed them away and, one by one, they left me. At the time I was fine with it, I wanted to be away from anyone who wanted to stop me from my goal of absolute perfection. Francine stuck around the longest, but, in the end, she left me just like everyone else.

I want to call her. I want things to go back to how they used to be, but she probably doesn't want to hear from me. I can't call her now, I'm a pathetic and hopeless excuse for a person. I have to get my life together first.

Determination sets into my eyes and I swiftly pulled my purple dress back on. I use a safety pin to pull the fabric tight at the back and quickly brush away the wild tangles in my hair. I am going to start eating again. An uneasy fear creeps into the pit of my stomach at the thought but I try my best to push it away.

_I can do this_, I tell myself, _I'm the only one who can_.

I take a deep breath as I turn the knob of my bedroom door and walk down the stairs. By the time I get to the bottom, I have to stop to steady myself and my heart feels like it might pound right out of my chest.

Yet another reason why I need to fix myself.

I walk into the dining room only to find Bailey sitting at the table with his head in his hands, mumbling in a quiet, but slightly panicked, voice.

"... scared….. Muffy…. worried….. don't know what to do…"

For a moment I thought I heard a sob in between the words but I figure that I must've been imagining it. But when I clear my throat awkwardly and Bailey's head shoots up, I see that his eyes are rimmed with red and I know that he's been crying. His eyes widen with surprise for a split second before returning to his usual stoic demeanor.

"Good afternoon, Miss Muffy, can I get you anything to eat?", he asks while standing from his seat, a twinge of hope evident in his voice. It's as if he knows that I'll decline, but he desperately, _desperately_, wants me to say yes.

Swallowing the lump in my throat and trying to ignore the terror creeping towards me, I nod with what I hope looks like an easy smile on my face. I really hope I seem nonchalant about this.

The look Bailey gives me makes my heart twist with guilt. I've been causing everyone so much pain. If I didn't know him then I'd think he was indifferent, but to me the tiny smile forming on his lips and the small sparkle in his eyes show hope and… _relief._

"C-can I have an omelette?"

I wince at the stutter. So much for seeming nonchalant.

I know it's going to be hard, but somehow, in that moment, I knew that _this was it. _I was going to get my life in order, I was going to get back that happy, confident girl I once was.

For Francine.

For Bailey.

But most of all, for me.

**A/N : Nng I like the other one a lot more than this one..**

**This is a sort of companion story to "He Left". I want to do more, but I'm not really sure how many. Depending how many I end up writing, I might write one that joins them all together. This whole thing is pretty much just self-indulgent so it's not like I have any concrete plans.**

**Oh btw Muffy is supposed to be 19 in this even though I never mention her age specifically.**

**Thanks for reading and reviews and constructive criticism are welcome! **


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